


a mother's rage.

by niamhies



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Missing Scene, Ron pov, implied ronmione, mentioned hinny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:55:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29985261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niamhies/pseuds/niamhies
Summary: Ron's been putting this conversation off for weeks now, but after being all but pushed into the conversation of his final year at Hogwarts, he has to finally come clean and tell his mum that he doesn't actually plan on going back.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	a mother's rage.

Breakfast at The Burrow in the morning hours of early July is a solemn affair, just as it had been ever since Dumbledore’s funeral. 

Ron treaded down the rickety steps of his home with Ginny tailing behind him, very miserably might he add, as they headed for the kitchen, still bleary eyed. He’d been up until about five in the morning, straining his eyes under the dim candle lights as he devoured his textbooks one after another in hopes of retaining as much knowledge as he could. He only had a few weeks until Hermione arrived – which was good news for him, he’d missed her more than he would admit – and a bit longer before Harry joined them – who he also missed and worried about terribly, though for much different reasons. They wouldn’t be staying at The Burrow long after that, though Ron wasn’t sure the exact date in which they were set to leave, except that Harry wanted to be off as soon as possible, but Ron had told them rather sternly, leaving no room for debate, that they’d have to stay for Bill and Fleur’s wedding. He had made up the excuse that his mother wouldn’t never forgive them, without mentioning his own fears that it could in fact, be the last time he saw his family ever again. And he wanted to make it count.

He hadn’t yet found the courage to break the news to his family – more specifically, his parents – that he would not be returning to Hogwarts for his final year, and with each passing day, the burden of it began to weigh on Ron heavier. He knew he must do it soon, so they’d at least have time to come to terms with the fact that they may not see him for a while, or ever again. 

Ron refused for the image of his mother’s reaction to pass through his thoughts – he couldn’t quite bear it. He knew she was going to be furious, and that she probably wouldn’t let them leave without putting up a fight. He just hoped to the high heavens that she would understand eventually, and that she’d forgive him for it all.

“There you two are,” Mrs Weasley commented at the sight of her youngest children entering the kitchen. She took a pan off the cooker and placed an egg on each of the two plates which were designated for them.

“Morning, mum,” said Ron and he hurried to his seat, gratefully accepting his mother’s cooked bacon and sausages. Fighting the urge to shovel it all in to ease the nerves in his stomach and give himself something to shift his thoughts from, he smiled up at her. “It looks great!”

Mrs Weasley blushed delightfully and patted his cheek before sorting out Ginny’s plate. “Thank you, Ronald, how kind.”

Fred and George shared a glance at him, and Ron grinned a little shamefully, his mind reverting to the passage he had read on compliments in that book of theirs which they had gifted him not long ago.

“Thanks, mum,” mumbled Ginny, hiding behind a curtain of her hair. She began picking at her food, not saying anything else.

“Is everything okay, Ginny? You look a little pale,” said Mrs Weasley concernedly, bending over at her daughter in an obliviously patronising way.

Ron looked over, frowning. He eyed his sister with weary eyes but did not indicate that he knew anything when his mum’s eyes met his in a desperate manner, wanting to know why Ginny hadn’t changed from her sullen state ever since the Hogwarts Express rolled in at the end of the year. His mum must’ve known that he knew something about it, but Ron’s expression gave nothing away – he wasn’t about to go gossip to her about his sister and best friend’s personal lives. Not that she knew it involved Harry.

“I’m fine. Just a little tired,” said Ginny and smiled up at Mrs Weasley in a cleverly mastered fake smile.

“Okay, dear… If you’re not feeling up to it in a bit, you might want to have a lay down, all right?”

“Yeah, okay.”

The room resolved into silence after that, even with Fred and George at the table, but they seemed too engrossed in a silent communication with one another to crack their usual jokes. 

Ron stabbed at his food and rested his cheeks against his palm, wishing his two favourite people were currently sat beside him. The Burrow was dreary – especially in today’s climate – without them. 

“Remus and Tonks will be over soon, and Kingsley said he’ll pop in after work if he’s got a spare minute… They’re all very apprehensive about picking Harry up, you know. Very dangerous,” Mrs Weasley added in a feigned light-hearted tone as she peered out of the kitchen window.

“Not this again mum,” groaned Ron with a tired gaze. 

It didn’t take a genius to find out what his mother thought about him, Hermione and his brothers accompanying the Order to pick Harry up at the end of July from Privet Drive. She’d gotten in a row with them about it several times over the past week, even threatening to Owl Hermione’s parents about it if they didn’t back down – though she didn’t know that even if she did, she wouldn’t be receiving a reply any time soon. It had taken several conversations with their dad and some of the Order members – mostly Remus - for her to not outright refuse it, but still, she made it her mission to bring it up and point out the dangers of it at every given chance. Ron was just thankful that Ginny was not of age yet, or she’d surely be the first to volunteer, and that without a doubt would lead Molly Weasley into an early grave.

“You know where my beliefs lie on this topic, Ronald,” said Mrs Weasley tightly, her eyes still not moving from the view outside the window, though her stance had stiffened massively.

“I know the dangers,” retorted Ron curtly. “Harry’s my best friend. You can’t expect me to-“

Don’t pull that card on me! You know full well I care about Harry as if he were my own son! But you – all of you – can’t sit here and tell me there isn’t a better, a safer way to retrieve him from that – that place!” demanded Mrs Weasley, her eyes rounding on all of them dangerously. Ron was taken aback at her sudden outburst, but regained himself quickly.

“Mum, if the Order think this idea is the best and safest way, then we have to listen to them. Every other method of transport is being watched – if we floo him to ours then what’s to say some Death Eater won’t grab his leg or something-“

“Enough,” she cut off, looking away from them once again. “I’ve had enough talk of death the past weeks for a lifetime. I won’t hear it.”

“But you brought it up-“ Ron began, disbelievingly. 

“I said enough!” 

Ron slumped in his chair and glared at his hands which sat in his lap. He felt Ginny’s eyes fall on him fleetingly, but when he looked up seconds later, she was hidden behind her hair once again. 

Mrs Weasley sighed exhaustedly after moments of silence and moved over to the sink where she began washing the pots by hand – something Ron noticed she only did when nervous, which these days, had become nothing short of frequent. It was several moments before she spoke again.

“I think you all might have to stay at home whilst I go out and buy your school stuff this year. I’ll have Auror’s with me, of course, but I just won’t feel safe bringing you lot and the other two with me to Diagon Alley. Especially Harry, Merlin knows how scared he must be feeling…”

Ron’s stomach twisted at the change in conversation, knowing that she was edging on the surface of the topic he had wanted to postpone for as long as possible – perhaps even until Hermione arrived, because she would know how to handle the situation much better than himself. 

“But, enough talk about that,” she said, and turned around to face her four children. Her eyes landed on Ron, and a faint glimmer a pride graced her face. “Gosh, seventh year… It feels like only yesterday when I was waving you off for your first year and look at you now! So handsome… so tall too, might I add.”

“Handsome’s a bit of a stretch, isn’t it mum?” snickered Fred, eyeing Ron with a judgemental look.

Ron glared at him but didn’t reply, he didn’t have enough energy to begin fighting with his brother’s over what their standard of beauty was, not when his mind was reeling with anxiety whilst simultaneously trying to come up with a way to break the news.

“Don’t be so rude, Fred,” snapped Mrs Weasley. “You ought to be kinder to your brother.”

“I am kind,” said Fred earnestly, and Ron scoffed. 

“Don’t know what you’re laughing at,” said George with a taunting smile. “We’re not the one’s who’ve got their NEWTs this year.”

“At least he’ll be doing his NEWTs! And that’s more I can say for the pair of you. Ron will do brilliantly in them, mark my words,” replied Mrs Weasley haughtily.

“Mum…” said Ron in a quiet voice, but she didn’t seem to hear.

“The three of them are such a smart bunch, they’ll have no trouble finding high-paying jobs. Ginny too when she leaves in two years – you two just got lucky-“

“Mum,” Ron repeated in a louder voice, and his mother’s voice came to an abrupt stop. She glanced over at him, as did Fred, George and Ginny. 

He cleared his throat and forced himself to meet her gaze. “I’m – we’re – me, Harry and Hermione… We’re not going back to Hogwarts,” he told her, his heart beating so rapidly, wishing that his two best friend’s were with him to back him up. But no, this was a conversation he had to have with his family alone. 

“What was that, Ron? I don’t think I quite heard you correctly,” said Mrs Weasley, a confused smile on her mouth, though her fixed gaze gave her away. She had heard him perfectly clearly. 

Ron swallowed thickly, burning under the shocked faces of his three siblings. “We’re not going back. To Hogwarts. It’s – well, we’ve got a job to do.” He looked over at Fred and George, who’s cruel grins had slipped from their faces and were now inched with blatant shock. He peered at Ginny, who was no longer hiding behind her hair but was staring wholly at him, trying to hide the confirmed terror in her gaze. Ron didn’t want to know what she was thinking – it was surely about Harry. And then when he looked back at his mother, Ron had to fight the urge to cower under the table. 

She looked purely livid, her brows contorted in daring rage, and her mouth agape, ready to curse him until he told her he was just playing a sick joke on her. 

“And what makes you think I’ll allow that?” she asked sharply, the anger bubbling beneath her words.

Ron bit his lip, knowing she would never understand to the extent of his loyalty to Harry. She’d never get it. No one would – apart from maybe Hermione. 

“I’m not asking, mum,” he said in a calm tone, but still defiant. He wouldn’t – couldn’t let her guilt him into staying. “I’m seventeen, so is Hermione. And-“

“Well Harry isn’t! He’s still got the trace on him, hasn’t he? How do you expect to go out and perform magic when the Ministry will be able to trace it back to you? You’ll be arrested before you can say Expelliarmus.” she gleamed victoriously at him, a satisfied look on her face.

“-And Harry will be soon. We’ll be leaving after the wedding,” Ron finished, attempting to keep himself calm. 

Mrs Weasley’s smile faltered, and some of the anger returned. “Leaving? And where do you suppose you will go?” 

To be honest, Ron wasn’t entirely sure. They hadn’t had much time to discuss all that they were going to do before they left for the summer, and Ron had been counting on the days after Harry arrived for him to let them know. “I can’t say. Dumbledore left Harry a job to do – said he was allowed to tell me and Hermione – and we can’t tell anyone else what it is.”

His mum opened his mouth rather angrily to reply but it was Fred who spoke first. “Dumbledore? Leave you a job?” 

Ron craned his neck around, meeting his brother’s astonished expression.

“Yeah, what’s all that about? Harry’s not even seventeen yet. You’re all just kids,” added George, a dubious look in his eyes.

Mrs Weasley nodded enthusiastically. “You’re absolutely right, you two. Ron, maybe-“

“You can call us kids all you want,” Ron started, a grumble of annoyance rising in him, “but who’s the ones who fought Death Eaters at the Ministry two years ago? Because I don’t remember it being you two, because you were off setting up your own little shop whilst me and Ginny had to go fight for our lives!” He retorted, ears tainting red. He mentioned Ginny’s name in hopes that she would side with him, because he didn’t think he could stand it if they all ganged up on him at once. 

“That’s not fair,” said Fred seriously, a flicker of guilt embedded in his gaze.

“Yeah, well life isn’t fair, is it?” said Ron nastily. 

“Ron, dear,” Mrs Weasley interrupted, her face displaying a forced sweetness, desperation hidden beneath. Ron noticed, not buying her new tactic at all. “I think Harry might have misunderstood Dumbledore. You see, maybe he wanted Harry to tell the Order about the mission, so they could help him, do you understand? Professor Dumbledore valued education very deeply, so I can’t imagine him wanting you three to abandon it just for a silly little mission.”

Ron pinched the bridge of his nose to calm himself. He had to constantly remind himself that she didn’t understand – none of them did – and that they were only concerned for him. In literally any other circumstance he would be grateful, but he couldn’t bring himself to be anything but frustrated.

“Harry didn’t misunderstand. We’ve got something to do and I’m pretty sure you can guess what it is-“

“Stop,” she demanded quickly, and her eyes flooded unexpectedly with tears. “You’re children. I won’t have it.” Ron watched as she shook her head at him, her eyes glassy. 

“Mum, you can’t stop them,” said Ginny, her voice raw from lack of use. 

Everyone’s gaze fixated on her, but she only had eyes for Ron. He took in her appearance, and immediately regretted not checking up on her more than he had been doing. He’d been so engrossed in their mission that he had all but forgot that Ginny was still most likely upset over her break up with Harry. 

“I don’t know why you’re getting involved, Ginny,” Mrs Weasley started, her cheeks turning scarlet. “You’ve said barely five words to me since you got off that train. We’re all upset over Dumbledore, but it only takes a second glance to realise that’s not what you’re hung up about. I’ve not pried about it – I’ve given you space – but I won’t have you – you – defending them! Not when they’ll end up getting themselves killed!” she shouted, her entire framing shaking in contorted fury.

“I don’t know why you even want us to go back to that place anyway!” Ginny started, and she glared up at her mum. “Without Dumbledore, Hogwarts isn’t half as safe as it once was. It won’t be long until Death Eaters are invading the place, and I can only imagine what they’ll do with me and Ron – coming from the biggest blood traitor family that’s out there! And not to mention we’re all cosy with Harry. I can’t even imagine what they’ll do to Hermione,” she snapped scathingly, now on her feet.

Mrs Weasley’s eyes flickered with a flurry of emotions. “Hogwarts will still have the teacher’s protection. Minerva McGonagall is an excellent witch-“

“Yeah but she’s not feared by You-Know-Who, is she?”

“Even so!” shrieked Mrs Weasley, her voice raising several octaves. “If it’s not deemed safe then you can all stay here! Harry and Hermione too. They should know by now that they’re always welcome-“

“Mum, will you please stop,” Ron begged, extremely desperate. “Nothing you do or say will change my opinion. I’m going with Harry and Hermione – it’s the only way.”

“No, it isn’t,” his mum replied, barely audible. Her face was now a sickly white, and she looked close to fainting. “I won’t have it – I don’t care what Dumbledore’s said… I don’t know what he thought he was doing, putting those thoughts into Harry’s head… just a child… all of you.” She shook her head vehemently, muttering wildly to herself.

A surge of guilt rushed through Ron and he moved to get up. “Mum…” He walked over to her and embraced her. She returned the hug instantly, gripping onto him for dear life, as though she would never be able to touch him again. When they pulled apart, tears were falling down her face like a stream of gushing water, but she stared at him firmly. 

“I won’t let you leave, Ronald. I’ll do everything – and I mean everything – in my power to stop you.”

“It won’t work,” he told her weakly.

“It will,” she nodded determinedly, trying to convince herself more than him. “I’ll tell the Order. I doubt Remus will be fond over the idea of Harry not at Hogwarts. And Hermione, yes! Hermione! I can’t imagine she’s all that please about missing her final year, is she?” she asked, a glimmer of hope in her gaze.

Ron untangled himself from her hold and ran a hand across his face, feeling beyond his years. Was this what Harry felt like? All those adults telling him he was too young to know what was going on? “Hermione would never leave Harry. Just like I wouldn’t. He’s tried to tell us that we shouldn’t go with him, but we are. And we always will. Hermione wishes she could go back to Hogwarts – so do I – but Harry, and our mission, comes above that. Above everything.”

“Even above your own family?” questioned Mrs Weasley, her lips not moving with her words.

“Harry is my family-“

“You know that’s not what I meant. Harry has been family ever since you befriended him when you were eleven. But you and him have us – _your family._ And how do you think we’ll react when we hear that you’ve been – been… Oh, I can’t!” his mum cried, her mouth wobbling tremendously.

“Mum, we’re doing this so we’ll have a family to come back to. All that stuff in The Daily Prophet – about Harry. I know you know it’s all lies…” he told her, the words slipping from his mouth before he could stop them. He was glad he had spoken so quietly because only his mother seemed to react, and if Ginny heard, he couldn’t see her reaction from the corner of his eye.

“It’s only a matter of time before You-Know-Who gains control. What’re you going to do then? He’ll be after you,” said Fred from across the room, his arms crossed.

“Then we’ll have to hide, won’t we?” replied Ron, shrugging.

“Hide where? What do you know about going on the run?” asked George, staring at him in disbelief, not quite believing he was having this conversation. 

“Hermione’s been preparing stuff for us since Dumbledore died. I’ve been doing my own research. I’m not as stupid as you think,” he told them vaguely, a little bitter that they still treated him like this, even after proving himself more times than he could count.

“Could’ve fooled me,” muttered Fred under his breath.

“Oh, will you just shut up? For once in your life!” Ron barked roughly. He was fed up with the two of them. Who were they to lecture him about being reckless? Idiots. They didn’t know a thing.

“No! I won’t, actually,” Fred retorted with a glare. 

“Do you seriously expect us to let you go running around the country on some mission that you won’t even tell us about? You’ll get yourself killed!” snapped George, piping in on his twins’ side.

Something in Ron snapped, and he was overwhelmed with rage. “DON’T YOU START ACTING LIKE YOU EVER GAVE A DAMN ABOUT ME!” he bellowed, face lit up like a thousand suns. 

George looked taken aback for a moment, but he quickly composed himself as best as he could. “What’s that supposed to mean? You’re my brother for Christ’s sake!” 

Ron clenched his fists, wishing he were anywhere but here. “Really? You’ve never acted like it,” he said harshly, his lip curling into a very Snape-like sneer.

“Ron-“ George began, after a small chorus of gasps from Fred, Ginny and their mother. 

“I don’t want to hear what you’ve got to say! Any of you! We’ll be staying until the wedding. Nothing you say to any of us will make us change our mind,” he turned to his mother, who was helplessly looking back and forth between him and George, “not even Hermione, since you think she’s so easily swayed.”

They stood there in silence for a long moment, and Ron looked around at them, waiting to hear more protests. When he didn’t, he made a move towards the door, planning on writing to Hermione and warning her in advance, until Ginny’s voice pierced the tension.

“How long will you be gone?”

Ron turned around, his breath still mildly ragged from his fury. He glanced at her, seeing no anger or defiance in her eyes – only concern. He knew it wasn’t just for Harry, but for Hermione too, and for him, her brother. A rush of affection for her surged through him.

“As long as it takes,” he replied truthfully. 

Something stirred in Ginny’s eyes and she blinked rapidly before turning around to face the wall so no one could see her. Ron didn’t look back at the rest of his family before leaving the room, and he didn’t even care to stop and listen to his mother’s frantic mutters as he left. He knew what she’d be saying, and only dreaded for dinner time, when his dad would be home, and he would without a doubt have been told. Bill would be there, and Charlie and Fleur. Maybe even some Order members. He didn’t want to think of the coming days, that were sure to be the most dragging and painful ones of his life thus far. When he reached his room, Ron sat down on his bed and reach for a piece of parchment, quill and ink, hastily writing to Hermione, warning her of his mum’s determination and asking her to hurry the hell up and come home to him.

**Author's Note:**

> hello, i hope you enjoyed reading this work of mine :) i always wondered how Mrs Weasley would've reacted to the news that Ron, Harry and Hermione wouldn't be returning to Hogwarts and i hope it was written well enough for you all! 
> 
> also, i'd just like to say that i don't support jkr's transphobic views or harmful stereotypes which she has incorporated into her writing. if you idolise or support her, please don't bother reading my works.


End file.
